Harsh Explanations
by homicidalslayer
Summary: A postHaven fic that tries to explain the total change of mood between Max and Logan that occured after they returned to the city. ML all the way. Volume 1 of HARSH Trilogy. The chapters are very short. Deal with it. And Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **"Dark Angel" does not belong to me. If it did, it wouldn't have been transformed from "kickass" to "vomit-worthy." But, credit given where credit is due.

**Setting:** Max & Original Cindy's Crib

**Timeline: **Season 1; Post "Haven"

"You honestly expect me to believe that you spent over 48 hours all alone with the boy in a private cabin in the middle of nowhere, and _nothing_ happened."

Original Cindy harped as she and her roommate entered their place of employment. "Employment", "torment", same thing Max had, at this point, had enough of this conversation. She dragged grabbed OC's elbow and dragged her back to their lockers.

"Yeah, OC, I _do_ expect you to believe it, because it's the _truth._" Max hissed, her face about 8 inches from OC's. The two faced off for about ten seconds, then Max sighed and dropped her gaze to the side. "Look, when Logan got back on his feet, things were moving in _that_ direction. He called me his miracle, and whenever he looked at me, I felt-" Max grimaced "_bubbly_. But now that he's back in the chair, it's gone. He's bitter, pissy, even. And I'm not his miracle any more. The sparkage has left the building, 'kay? So _stop_ bringing up."

Max stormed off, leaving her friend speechless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Not mine Blah, blah, woof, woof, yeah, yeah, no one ever reads these anyway.

**Setting**: Jam Pony, 12:23 pm

Original Cindy, Sketchy, and Herbal Thought sat crowded around their usual lunch table. Max was absent due to the annoying pages of her knight in (apparently) dull and dingy armor. Sketchy and Herbal were having an animated conversation about stunt biking, while Original Cindy sat deep in thought, frowning as she chewed her PB&J.

"OC!" Cindy snapped out of her trance at the sound of Sketch's Voice. She looked up to find both men staring at her in concern.

"Something wrong?" Sketchy asked. "You seemed kind of out of it."

"Do y'all thing that Rollerboy is good to Max? Like, he respects her and stuff?"

"I think if Max catches you calling him 'Rollerboy' there'll be Hell to pay." Sketchy replied. "However, do you have any reason to believe that things are anything other than copasetic in the land of the rich and reclusive?"

"Well," Original Cindy began, but was cut off by Herbal.

"I and I don't want to even _think _about what Max'll do to the two of you if she finds out that you've been gossiping about she and Logan _again_. It's all good, all the time, and _especially_ when you don't interfere." He shot a pointed look at Original Cindy. "Now I and I am going' to get back to work." He got up and left the two of them staring at him, puzzled.

"What's gotten into _him_?" OC asked Sketchy.  
"Problems with his woman," Sketchy replied. "Again. But I think he's right about not interfering. Unless you plan on leaving me your bike."

_Thwap!_ Was the sound of OC's hand slapping Sketchy's head.

"Did I hear and echo?" She said, before walking off.

"Ha ha," Sketchy muttered to himself as he threw out the remains of his lunch and went of to get a package from Normal.

**R & R Please**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** TV show not mine, and to be honest, I don't really want it.

**Author's Note:** Thank you, BBWW people for being so supportive. I'm trying to churn these out as fast as I can, hence the reason that the chapters have been so short.

**Setting: **The Streets of Seattle. Dusk. How the hell did I go from Noon to Dusk, you ask? When you figure it out, let me know.

Max sped through the streets of Sector Five, her hair whipping at her face, Ninja purring beneath her. It was times like these that she would actually allow herself to feel; when she was all alone with no chance of her thoughts being interrupted. All of the messy emotions she had to bury could surface now to be dealt with and discarded. And lately, the emotions all seemed to have a common source: Logan.

Logan was a constant source of joy, warmth, pain, confusion, and ache. But lately, all she'd been able to get from him was hurt and sharp jabs of icy cold. Max's eyes began to sting, and it had nothing to do with the Seattle smog they encountered at the speed the bike was currently moving.

It was the memories that brought the excess moisture to her eyes. She refused to refer to them as "tears," even in her mind. The memory of his warm smile from across the table as she shared her blood with him. The memory of how his body felt on the bike as she clung to him, trying to concentrate on his driving techniques as they sped through the city on the Ninja. The closeness of their lips as he stood before her. And then there was the memory from outside his uncle's cabin, and that oh-so-sweet...

"_Stop it," _Max silently commanded herself. She blinked the memories away, only to have them be replaced by the Other ones, the ones she felt trapped in, because they weren't really memories: they were realities. Seeing the ambulance outside Fogle Towers and the loaded gun on Logan's death had nearly caused her to to hyperventilate. His screening her calls sent pangs through her. Each time he had kicked her out of his apartment was like a fresh blow to her already broken heart.

But it was his collaboration with Vertes that had cut her the most. The fact that he had knowingly allowed one of her tormentors to operate in Seattle, that he had _worked_ with the same woman who had once taken a circular saw to Max's shin, who had performed an "autopsy" on Jack while he was still alive, made it entirely too clear to Max that she would never come first, not as long as he was in a wheelchair, not as long as there were downtrodden to save. Logan's harsh, bitter question; "Is it easier for you if I'm in the chair?" had made her feel like all of the oxygen in her lungs had turned into ice; sending shock waves of cold pain throughout her, making it difficult to breathe. Didn't he understand what his relapse meant to her? It was another failure on her part: further evidence that she could never be his salvation, not the way he had become hers.

She had loved that her act of affection that day in the hospital had done something to help him heal. She had basked in his warm gaze as they once again repeated the intimate act of sharing blood. Well, she had basked up until the point of passing out, that is. How could he believe for a second that it was easier if he was in a wheelchair? The walls he built up around himself became insurmountable, even for a transgenic, yet he continued to deliver blows to hers, weakening them nearly to the brink of collapse.

But Max had decided to rebuild and reinforce her walls once more. She would ignore every temptation to once again taste his lips; refuse the voice in the back of her mind that begged her to cuddle up close to him when ever she saw him. When seizures hit, she would refrain from hauling ass to the sanctuary of the Penthouse and his soothing presence, even if it meant once again enduring the painful spasms on the cold hardness of the bathroom floor. She would not make the first move. Not until he had gotten over himself long enough to realize that he was killing her.

Max slowed as she pulled up to the Sector Nine Checkpoint, fishing out her Sector Pass. "Jam Pony Messenger!" She waved it at the overhead guard. He nodded, indicating that she could pass. Max gunned the engine, and blazed through into the sector beyond.

She was back to normal now, no emotions in sight as she swung into the Fogle Towers Parking Complex. The only stray thought in her head was of what she would do to Logan if he was ungrateful when she delivered the files he'd had her swipe from the Police Department. Well, that and _"I'm Hungry."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Not mine! Leave me Alone, Dit.

**Setting:** Fogle Towers

Max stood perfectly still, Logan's files in hand, as she rode the elevator up to his apartment. As the elevator car climbed higher and higher, she wondered what Logan's mood would be. Then the ride was over, and she stepped out into the hallway. The door was locked.

_ "No matter," _Max thought as she fished out her lock pick and inserted it into the lock. _"I'll be in just as soon as…that happens." _The tumbler clicked into place beneath her skilled fingers. She opened the door and sidled into the apartment

She was surprised to hear music playing as she entered. It was obviously pre-Pulse. If she had to guess, she'd estimate late 1990's, early twenty first century. She cocked an eyebrow and stopped to cast out her keen sense of hearing. She detected two people within the apartment: one typing, one moving about the kitchen. She chose to pursue the kitchen noises first, assuming it was Bling, who could possibly shed some light as to the cheesy music, and hopefully feed a hungry catgirl.

* * *

"Oh, hey Max," Bling's greeted her cheerfully as she entered. He was slice of vegetables, presumably for the stack of sandwiches that lay nearby.

"Hey, Bling, how've you been?" Max smiled.

"Just fine thank you," Bling returned her smile, arranging some vegetables on a sandwich, which he then handed to Max. "For you. You'll need the energy to deal with His Royal Grumpiness. Good Luck." Max rolled her eyes, and went off to face Logan, hoping that her success would help to improve his disposition.

* * *

**Reviews are MUCH APPRECIATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!!!**


	5. Chapter 5

Max strolled into the computer room, trying to appear casual. She assumed her usual perch on the edge of the desk, to the left of Loganandcomputer. (They had merged to become one entity at this point.)

"Hey," she said after a minute or so of chewing on her sandwich.

"Hey Max," he replied, not actually moving his gaze from the computer. Max waved the files she had brought with her under his nose, jerking them away when he reached to grab them. They continued this process repeatedly until, in an act of surrender, Logan wheeled around to face her.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint," he smiled at her. "Even if I am a little slow on the uptake." The smile was meant to dazzle her, to make her relent and give up the files. Max, having none of it, stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest, files safely out of his reaches in the hand furthest away from him. Logan, seeing this, decided to try a different approach.

"Max," his voice was a cross between cajoling and whining. "May I _please_ have the files?" Max resisted the urge to laugh.

"Say 'pretty please.'"

"Max-" full-blown whine.

"With a cherry on top," Max was laughing at this point. Logan's eye's narrowed; he wheeled around, turning back to his computer. Max's laughter ended abruptly.

"Oh here, you big baby," Max snapped, peeved that he wouldn't play along. She tossed the files into his lap, and stood to leave. Logan winced and sighed.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "Don't go. I'm sorry. Lately I've been…"

"Grumpy? PMS-y? Acting like a five year old?" Max supplied, managing to maintain a straight face. Logan laughed, shaking his head as he did so.

"Feeling Overwhelmed?" Max offered, serious now. "Confused?" She pushed herself back up onto the desk. "Nothing at all?"

"That last one's pretty much a given," Logan responded absentmindedly, leafing through the files she'd brought.

That was it. Max had had enough of his self-deprecating remarks. She slapped him across the face--_hard_. Once he recovered from the blow, he looked up at her in shock.

"Feel that, Mopey?" She smirked.

"What the _hell_? Why did you do that?" Logan's voice was beginning to rise.

"Really, really, really, really, _really_ long list of answers to that question, Logan. How much time do you have?" Max's voice rose to match his volume.

"Cut it down to the top five," Logan's voice was scathing.

"M'kay. Five: I have a naturally violent tendency towards whiny brats." Logan opened his mouth to argue this point, but Max cut him off. "Four: I'm sick of all of your moping. Three: You've been acting like a jackass for the past two weeks. Two: Vertes. One: I've had **enough **of the attitude. So either find yourself a self esteem, or find yourself a new super freak to do your legwork, because I've had it." And with that, Max stormed out, leaving a very stunned Logan behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

Long after Max had stormed out, Logan sat still, trying to process what had happened. At some point, he came to his senses long enough to assume his usual brooding post in front of the bay window. He sat motionless for so long, in fact, that Bling came to see if he was alright.

"Man, are you okay? You look kind of," Bling searched for the right description. "Nauseous. Did you and Max have a spat? I thought I heard yelling earlier." Logan sighed.

"I made a 'self deprecating' remark that apparently _she_ took great offense to. She slapped me." Logan admitted, using air quotes, then proceeding to feel extremely lame for doing so.

"Can I say something?" Bling asked. Logan snorted.

"What, you need my permission?"

"Well, this seems more serious than the things I usually meddle in." Bling sighed. "Look, when you regained the use of your legs, you did it how?"

"You know that it was Max's blood transfusion," Logan replied, slightly testy. "But I don't see what that has to do with..." He trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Oh, crap. You don't think--"

"That Max feels guilty that her blood failed to withstand your immune system? That she when she walked in to find you with that gun..." This time it was Bling who trailed off, he didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Oh damn," Logan groaned.

"So, what're you going to do?" Bling asked.

"I have no clue," Logan admitted. "I figure I should probably give her a day or so to cool down before I call her."

"Wise choice," Bling said wryly. "Well, I've got to motor. See you tomorrow." He turned and headed for the door.

"Yeah, have a nice night," Logan called after him. Now alone, Logan decided to get back to work. He sighed, and wheeled around to head back to his computer, and the files Max had brought.

Max paced the apartment for the two hundredth time, stopping yet again to stare at the phone.

_It's three in the morning Max, _the alpha voice in her head thought. _He's probably asleep by now. And even if he's not, then he certainly hasn't learned his lesson yet._

**Does that really matter? **The annoying sentimental beta voice that only made its presence known when she was alone interjected. **You want to see him. And we both know that he's not going to figure it out on his own. He's like you: emotions are to be neither seen nor heard. Besides, maybe if he knew how much you cared-**

_SHUT UP! There will be no wishful thinking here. That only leads to pain and weakness. You know that you should ignore that voice._

**What if he's so mad about you hitting him that he doesn't want to see you again?**

_There's no use risking tactical disadvantage on maybes and what ifs._

**Imagine the tactical disadvantage if he cuts off your tryptophan supply.**

_Then we'll find a pharmaceutical dealer._

**Excuse me? That's a _major_ disadvantage. It's less trouble to just go check on him.** For once, the annoying voice won. Max grabbed her jacket, and wheeled her bike out onto the street.


	7. Chapter 7

**Setting: **Fogle Towers Penthouse; 3:41 AM

Max sneaked into the penthouse, closing the door silently behind her. She slipped down the hallway, expecting to find Logan asleep in his room; prepared to wait a few hours until he roused. She figured it would give her more time to figure out what to say.

_Should have thought that before you got here._

**Spontaneous is more romantic.**

_Oh, for the love of Mike! You see, you've driven me to quoting _Normal

**Shh! Some one else is here!** Max heard the flutter of paper. She tensed immediately. Then she heard the unique strokes of Logan's fingers on his keyboard. This triggered an unwilling flashback of the presence of those same fingers at the base of her skull, the back of her neck, pulling her closer as she stood bent over the door of his car, their lips locked, delicious sensations shooting through her.

Max battled herself momentarily, then decided to continue, once again ignoring every rational instinct within her. She continued on her way down the hall, taking slow, deliberately silent steps, unconsciously maintaining her anonymity, keeping the option of turning back. But there was no turning back for her. She stopped in the doorway of the computer room, silently observing Logan from behind as he concentrated on his task. She stood stock still, her Fight instinct and Flight instinct battling once again. After about a minute, Logan sensed her presence. His head jerked up from the file he was currently reading, his eyes being hit directly with the white glare from the computer. He turned his head, and glanced at her from out of the corner of his eye. Without taking his eyes off of her, he swung the chair around so that he was facing her. He moved slowly, warily, as if any he believed sudden movements would send her bolting for the door.

"Hey," he said, his voice hid his wariness under his casual tone; as if she showed up at quarter to four in the morning on a regular basis. Max gulped, then returned his greeting.

"Hi." _How the hell do you manage to make your voice tremble for a single syllabic word?_ _Why do you have to make yourself so vulnerable? _Max had no response for the Voice this time.

"So..." Logan began, obviously trying to skirt the issue, trying to make this easier for her. For them both. Max couldn't help but think he was sweet for this. But she knew that if she didn't make things right now, this would linger in the back of her mind forever.

"I'm sorry about-about earlier," she stumbled.

"Max, it's okay-"

"No, it's _not_. I majorly overreacted. I had no right to- to-" Try as she might, she couldn't say it.

"To slap me?" Logan supplied. "Max, I have to admit that I was surprised that you did, but, to be honest, I was also surprised that no one did it earlier. I know that I've been awful to you over the past few weeks--"

"Logan, it's fine-"

"No, Max. You gave me this huge gift, and even though it didn't last, I don't want you to think for a second that I'm not grateful to know that you'd be willing to risk so much to help me." Even though he knew that this sounded mushy and lame, he had to say it, and he knew that Max would understand. She flashed him a sheepish grin, which he returned shakily, hoping that she wouldn't notice the blush that was rapidly devouring his facial complexion. Then he noticed that her eyes looked unusually shiny and moist, so he figured that they were even in terms of embarrassing moments.

Max drew in a deep breath, and, deciding that the mushy moment needed to end... _now._

"So... bygones?"She asked hopefully. Logan gave a short laugh, nodding.

"Good. Now, one of us needs sleep." She said with a tone of pushiness in her voice. Logan laughed again, surrendering. He turned back to the computer, saving his work and shutting it down. He switched off the desk lamp, and wheeled himself past Max, and out into the living room. Max followed silently, flopping down onto the sofa. He looked back at her over his shoulder.

"You're staying?" She knew it was meant both as a request and a statement. She nodded, feeling suddenly exhausted both physically and mentally by the day's events.

"Well, the guest room is made up. You can stay in there." He said, then added. "Please?" Max nodded again, and Logan held out his hand to help her haul herself up off of the sofa. They continued on down to their respective rooms.

After changing into the t-shirt and pair of boxers Logan had left out for her while she was taking advantage of his hot water supply, Max sank slowly into the layers of soft, cool sheets and fluffy blankets, enveloping herself in their Logan-y scent of fabric softener and time. As she drifted off, she thought how nice it was to have their comfortable friendship back, even though it wasn't necessarily what she wanted, but there would be time for that later. Right now, they were exactly where they were best.

**THE END?**

**FIN?**

**¿LA ULTIMA?  
INISHEDFAY?**


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